


Honeymoon Waltz

by Endangered_Slug



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Rumbelle Revelry, They dance, and then they dance, and then they talk, honeymoon fic, not very spooky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 12:45:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5091251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endangered_Slug/pseuds/Endangered_Slug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing Belle and Rumple honeymoon written for Lady-therion for the Rumbelle Revelry.  My three prompt words were: Black cat, clock chimes, jealous</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honeymoon Waltz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lady-therion](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lady-therion).



 

* * *

The music faded away, but Belle had barely heard it as she stared into her husband’s soft brown eyes. Her husband! Belle could hardly believe it, after all this time, after all they’re been through, after everything that has kept them apart, they were finally married.

There was a quiet smile playing along his lips, just lifting up at the corners as if he was keeping a sweet secret. With the music gone the only thing she could hear was the soft exhale of his breath and the fast tempo of her beating heart. It struck her, then, that there was no one around, it was just the two of them without any worry of interruption.

Finally. They had struggled with rotten timing almost as often as they’d struggled with Rumple’s darkness.

Her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, his lips pressing gently upon hers before they were enveloped in a cloud of golden smoke and Belle found herself dancing on air.

“What!” she cried, looking down at the floor, now six feet below her toes. “Rumple!”

“Shhh, just go with it,” he laughed into her hair, holding her close. “You’re safe, I won’t let you fall.”

“I trust you, Rumple,” she pointed out. “It’s just that we’re floating.”

“I’m happy,” he told her, pulling back slightly to look at her. His eyes were warm and soft and his gaze was enough to make the floor melt away so it was really no matter that she wasn’t on it anyway.

She laughed at him, incredulously. “You float when you’re happy?”

He pretended to give it some thought before answering truthfully. “I don’t know. This is how I feel when I’m with you. Ever since the beginning, you made me feel like I could walk on air.”

They waltzed around the room again, hovering sometimes six inches above the parquet floor, sometimes three feet. Belle kept her eyes on her husband’s face, not just because of the fact that it felt safer when she did so, but because his face was entirely open to her. There were no hidden secrets, no devious plots to set in motion. It was just him and her in this abandoned house and Belle couldn’t remember the last time it had been like this. She didn’t think there had been any. There had always been the specter of the Dark One looming behind all of Rumplestiltskin’s actions and, even though Belle could understand some of it, she couldn’t forget that it had driven him to do some truly horrible things in the name of his son.

She could admit it to herself, she had been jealous of the Dark One and the hold it seemed to have on his heart. Sometimes she felt that she came in as a constant second or third place when it came to her husband’s affections. She could understand with Bae— naturally Rumple would love his son more than anything, but she'd bristled when she came in last against the power he so craved.

But, now that he’d trusted her with the dagger, trusted her with something so vital to his being and know without a doubt that she would never use it against him, she knew that they had turned a corner in their relationship. Hell, she would have married him anyway, but now she knew at least where she stood in terms of herself, Bae, and power.

So she allowed him to sweep her off her feet and swing her around in midair while she lost herself in his eyes. He smiled at her so sweetly, so softly that,not for the first time, she wondered if this was the man he’d once been, before the first Ogre War, before he’d been saddled with a wife who scorned him. He must have looked just like this, so trusting and honest and open and her heart swelled full to bursting that he might be that man again — the one she always knew was there behind the darkness. Before she could stop herself, she leaned in to kiss him again, never minding that they weren’t on solid ground and that she had a thing about heights.

It was another soft kiss, pressed gently against his lips, but when she pulled away from him, his eyes were no longer open and soft, but dark and burning with a passion that simmered beneath the surface.  

She could hear the chiming of a distant clock, the tune unfamiliar to her ears, but melodic enough. Three chimes, they’d been floating for an hour then.

“It seems you mean to undo me, woman,” he said, hoarsely as he squeezed her closer and she gasped when she realized her feet were now touching the floor again.

“I fully intend on having you, Rumple,” she answered him, biting her lip as she tried not to smile.

“Surely this place must have a bedroom in it?” He smiled at her, that little smirk of his sending tingles all the way down to her toes.

“It does,” Belle said, her face lighting up. “And it’s right this way.” She took his hand and led him back to the foyer, sidestepping the furniture that was in her way before she knocked something over with her large gown. She looked back, giddy with anticipation at her handsome husband who was following along with bemusement. He could have just popped them up to their room, but something about dragging Rumple to his fate appealed to her in a primitive way. Even if he was coming along willingly.

The house was large, but nothing compared to the Dark Castle. She’d explored it over the course of the missing year and she’d prepared her favorite when she realized that they would need a place to hide from Storybrooke and the uncanny way certain people had of interrupting them during their private moments.

They reached the room, but Belle hesitated with her hand on the doorknob trying to keep her heart from exploding in anticipation. “I’m so happy, Rumple,” she whispered, breathlessly.

Rumple cupped her cheek with a warm hand. “I’ve lived a long time, Belle, but I can tell you that I’ve never been happier than I am right now. I love you.”

She leaned into his hand, closing her eyes against the tears that welled up at his speech. She knew he loved her, that wasn’t the point. It was the closeness and the trust and adoration she could feel radiating off of him in waves enveloping her.

The touch of his lips against hers got her attention and her eyes flew open at the needy sound he’d made in the back of his throat.

Already he was pressed up against her, hard and insistent against her belly, but he kept gentle control as he paid special attention to her neck. She was grateful again for the transformed dress, he never would have had such access if she was still in her wedding outfit.

Her hands had begun to sweat and the doorknob was slippery, but she managed to open the door, sending them tumbling into the room.

Stumbling, they tried to undress each other as they made their way to the bed, but they fell in a heap on top of a fur rug before the fireplace. Rumple waved his hand and a fire sprung to life, heating the chilly air even as he was unlacing Belle’s dress.

She shrugged out of the tight bodice once the laces were loose enough, kicking the dress away with impatient kicks, then attacked his blue coat, pulling at it and tugging at the cuffs until it slid off, then before Rumple caught his breath, she grabbed his shirt and tugged him down on top of her so he could lave at her full and aching breasts.

Holding his head close, bringing him to exactly where she needed his mouth, she keened as he obeyed her silent wish, nipping and sucking at her tight, rosebud nipples. Each pull of his mouth sent liquid lightning down to her core where she had begun to ache with need.

She began to tear at his clothes, needing to feel him fully before he drove her mad out of her mind with greedy lust. He allowed her to rip his shirt, pulling back to watch her as she tore at the fabric, but he stayed her hands when she went after his trousers. Breathing heavily, she waited until he shimmied out of them before wrapping her legs around him, hastily pulling him into her before she went mad with her desire for him.

It wasn’t the first time they’d made love, but this was the first time as husband and wife and the bond that they now shared — perhaps it was magical, maybe she just imagined it — was felt keenly as he thrust inside her. He cried out with every snap of his hips, a broken sound that would have worried her if she hadn’t been answering with her own ragged moans.

He drove her close to the brink of a frenzied peak and she wrapped her arms around him, bringing him down so she could kiss him, letting him swallow up her cries as he pleasured her until, with an arch of her back, she screamed out her satisfaction. Her quivering inner muscles clenched at him, bringing him over the edge with her and he came with a ragged groan before collapsing on top of her in a boneless heap.

 

* * *

Belle woke up alone and, fearing for her husband, quickly went in search of him. She found him sitting in the foyer, shoulders slumped and looking despondent at the table in front of him.

His attention was caught by a round golden box on the coffee table sitting next to a figurine of a sleeping black cat, but he gave her a small smile when she sat down next to him. Belle could tell by the slight strain of his eyes that an old demon had just visited him.

“Rumple? Are you okay?” she asked, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. Whatever it was, she would be here for him.

He paused and there was a lie on the tip of his tongue, but, to Belle’s surprise, he shook his head and spoke the truth.

“That box,” he began, determinedly not looking at it now that she was here. “It’s...it’s a powerful magic, Belle…” His breathing had gone ragged and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.

Belle stared at him in alarm before turning her attention to the box in question. She picked it up, garnering a displeased noise from her husband, but it did her no harm. She turned it over in her hands, examining it from every angle.

“This box?” she asked him.

“Yes, Belle.”

“But I don’t—”

“It transforms. The box is just its disguise, but I know what it is and I know what it’s for. I’ve been searching for it for years, but I thought it had been lost in the ages.”

“What does it do?”

“It’s a hat. A powerful… receptacle that… it could rid me of the Dark One forever.” He looked at her, anguished. “I’d be free, Belle!”

Belle gasped, unsure if she’d heard him correctly. Never before had he spoken of wanting to be rid to the Dark Curse. Always the talk of needing more power, but never the burden of having it.

“How do we operate it?” she asked.

“We?” he said, startled.

“Rumple,” she said with no little exasperation. “I love you with or without the Dark Curse, but, I think, if you want to be rid of it, then I will find any way to help you do that.

He looked at her, dazed. “You would do that? For me?”

She laughed, then. Shaking her head helplessly, she put the box in his hands, folding his fingers over it. “I would do a lot for you. And that you want to be free of the Dark One just proves that you truly are a worthy and noble man. I always knew it,” she said, brushing his hair away from  his face so she could see him better. His joyful mood was long gone, but he’d exchanged it for his honesty and forthrightness.

We’ve got this together,” she told him, leaning in until her forehead touched his. Her fingers delved into his soft hair before cupping his cheek with her hand. “I won’t leave you.”

He nodded his head, then, hesitantly, as if he was still unsure of her acceptance, leaned into her palm. “Together then.”

  
  



End file.
